Under The Table
by pelespen
Summary: Ficlet written for "barking up the wrong tree" prompt. Ron clearly is under the wrong impression...


_Written for "barking up the wrong tree" prompt in the 30 Candles Challenge at livejournal community hermionesirius._

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Sirius smirked into his glass as he took a lazy sip of the amber liquid, savouring its slow burn. He _could_ be a jealous wizard, particularly where she was concerned, but right now all he felt was thick amusement tinged with pity.

Every heterosexual male in the bar had noticed her when she walked in. She was wearing her hair down tonight, in soft loose curls the way he loved it. Her sweet, full lips were slightly tinged with gloss, just enough to cause all sorts of dirty fantasies about what that pouty little mouth could and should be doing.

She was wearing the dress.

He could hear her indignant voice now…

_"I'm not a doll for you to dress up, Sirius…"_

His smirk widened into a grin as he recalled the things he did to her in that dressing room to convince her to buy the dangerously low-cut black frock.

Her eyes were the colour of burnt chocolate as she quickly glanced over at him before giving a quick squeeze to her 'boys'.

"Oi," Ron grumbled as she ruffled his hair affectionately before sitting down between he and Harry.

"Sirius," she greeted him casually, their secrets locked tightly behind those soft brown eyes and almost prim demeanor that was in direct conflict with her physical appearance.

"Well, don't you look nice," he commented, unable to completely keep the pleased growl out of his voice.

The tiny, almost invisible dimple at the corner of her mouth betrayed the smile she reserved just for him. "Thank you, Sirius," she said quietly.

"Yeah, what's up with the dress?" Ron asked.

Sirius ran his tongue over the inside of his mouth and bit back a laugh as he watched. Hermione _almost_ rolled her eyes, but caught herself.

"Sometimes a girl just likes to look like a girl, Ronald," she answered with a huff, using her swottiest tone.

The redhead seemed to ponder this a moment before grunting and shrugging his shoulders. Sirius didn't miss, however, the covert glance the younger wizard stole, his eyes raking over the revealing neckline and comely curves of his childhood friend. They narrowed suddenly in consideration before widening, and then it was Ron's turn to smirk as he raised his bottle to his lips.

_Oh good heavens_, Sirius thought with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. He could see where this was headed from a mile away.

His thoughts were interrupted by a foot softly brushing his ankle, then gliding slowly up his calf. His breath caught in his throat as the dainty toes curled against his pants leg and arched into his thigh. He couldn't resist casually slipping his hand under the table to caress that sweet instep, pressing his thumb into her sole in a slow, suggestive pattern. He'd completely tuned out the conversation around him, watching her face for any change of expression, deeply pleased at the sight of her tongue darting out to lick her lips before she swallowed hard. She seemed intently focused on whatever Harry was saying, even as her cheeks took on a slightly pink hue.

Sirius grinned inwardly, planning his next attack. She beat him to the execution, however, pressing her foot suddenly into the growing bulge in his jeans and rubbing slowly against him, even as she turned to answer some question Ron had asked. Her eyes were almost glazed now, and he noticed how her fingers tightened on the edge of the table as he held her foot in place against his crotch.

"How's that latest project at your work going, Hermione?" he asked in as casual a voice as he could muster, wanting to tease his little witch even as she teased him.

The look she gave him was fierce, almost angry-looking, to those who didn't know better.

"Fine," she said shortly, with a forced smile. "It's going great, actually."

Her eyes lingered on his for just a moment as she paid his erection one last, firm stroke before quietly dropping her foot.

"If you'll excuse me, gentlemen," she said suddenly, glancing between Harry and Ron before scooting her chair out and heading to the loo.

Ron gave a knowing chuckle.

At Harry's questioning glance, he smirked and rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, Harry – it's obvious, isn't it? The slinky dress, the nervousness… she still has a _thing_. 's just like I told you before."

Harry gave his friend a skeptical look and glanced at Sirius, who simply sat back and listened with a smug grin.

"I know I said she wasn't my type before," Ron continued, his words slightly slurry, "but she's trying so hard, maybe I oughta give it a go, yeah?"

At this, Sirius couldn't hold back anymore. A loud bark of laughter erupted from him.

"What?" Ron demanded with a confused frown once the older wizard's laughs had calmed a bit.

"Pup," he said, shaking his head and still chuckling, "You are barking up the wrong tree."

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End file.
